A Locked Door
by moonshadowASJ
Summary: Short story for a quick read. Not all doors can be physically seen or touched. Can Hannibal Heyes find the right combination to unlock this one?


**A Locked Door**

**A short story written for a challenge.**

Kid Curry sat at the window inside the bank, his Colt .45 in hand, stationed at his customary place while Hannibal Heyes was behind him, occupied with working on the combination to the safe. At the moment however, there was a frown along with a troubled look on the young outlaw's face as he watched the last few townspeople close up their shops for the night. Without even being aware of it, the outlaw expelled a drawnout breath.

Heyes paused long enough to give his partner a brief look of concern before he returned his full attention to the job at hand. Within moments, a smile of satisfaction creased his face when the first tumbler fell into place.

Kid removed his feet from the windowpane and leaned forward to get a better look outside. He used the gun in his hand to push the curtain aside and then cautiously pulled back on the shade that hid the two outlaws from view. After he made sure no one was was near enough to be of any real concern, he let both the shade and the curtain fall back into place. Eyeing the weapon he held, Curry grimaced and then placed it on table beside him. He cast it a look of loathing as he laid his now empty hand in his lap.

This, too, did not pass unnoticed by the dark-haired man crouched behind him although he never paused in his search for the right combination. Head pressed firmly against the cold metal of the safe, he closed his eyes, deep in thought as he listened for the familiar sound as his nimble fingers turned the dial slowly, one number at a time. As the second tumbler clicked to signal his success, Heyes rose and crossed the room to stand next to Curry; he placed a hand on his partner's shoulder.

"It wasn't your fault - he drew on you first," he said, stating the obvious.

Curry remained stoically silent.

"He was asking for trouble; if you hadn't stopped him, there would have been even more people burying their kinfolk tomorrow."

"An' that's supposed to make it alright - to make me feel better?" Curry snapped, his words filled with bitterness and self-recrimination.

"No, you're not a killer at heart, so when you use that gun of yours and someone dies, you're gonna have this feeling. It's natural. You wouldn't be you if you didn't."

"I wouldn't be me...?" the sandy-haired outlaw echoed, "Hell, Heyes, I'm not sure who I am anymore!" His frustration was obvious.

There were all kinds of locked doors in the world, but none were so challenging to Hannibal Heyes as getting the right combination into his partner's thoughts. He had learned early on in his attempts to gain access, that the real secret to unlocking that particular door was patience and understanding, along with knowing the right words to say...and when to say them.

There was one major obstacle that Heyes had to contend with, one that was entirely Curry's own doing: he kept changing the combination. This was neither deliberate, nor premeditated on the other man's part; it was just that the Kid was his own worst enemy when it came down to using his gun and the guilt that came along with it afterwards - even if it was justified. Just like what had happened yesterday. _Okay, Kid, one number at at time..._

"You're the same little boy who stood there that day and vowed that you'd protect me - both of us. You promised that you'd never let anyone hurt us ever again."

Curry ducked his head. "Yeah, well I was jus' a kid. Maybe I was wrong; maybe I was just bein' stupid. Maybe there was some another way - "

"And _maybe_ if you hadn't stepped in when you did, you'd be burying me, too - did that thought happen to cross your mind yet?"

"I keep tryin' to tell myself that...but so far, it ain't workin'." Curry looked up into his partner's face and Heyes saw the vulnerability - the raw pain - along with the desperate need to understand, in the other man's eyes.

"Kid, listen to me. That gunman was like a stick of dynamite ready to explode and you just ended up being the one to stop him. From the very first moment he drew his gun and threatened me - along with everyone else at that poker table - you were forced to become a part of the picture, whether you wanted to or not. And then when he challenged _you_, you never stood a chance of talking him outta it. He never gave you the opportunity to think; you just acted instinctively."

"My instincts didn't have to kill him," Curry protested.

"You didn't make that decision - he did. And because you took the chance, because you used that gun of yours, the people in that saloon are alive - including me." Heyes paused to let his words soak in. "Because of _**you,**_" he repeated, emphasizing the last word. He fell silent and waited.

Curry, too, was quiet. Head bent, he mulled over everything his partner had said; the words played over and over in his mind and it all boiled down to the same thing. _It made sense; Heyes was right. His gun was a part of him and the life he had chosen to lead. Even though he'd always have that feeling of guilt afterwards, there were going to be times when using it was the right thing to do. Like today..._He looked up and offered Heyes a faint smile.

Heyes grinned as he watched the expressions play across his partner's face. Proud of his success, the grin grew even more broad when he heard that third and final tumbler go _click_ as it dropped into place. _Once again he had found the correct combination to help his friend. _The seasoned safe-cracker knew there would be a next time, though. He looked forward to the challenge and relished the opportunity to put his skills to the test.

_There wasn't a locked door of any kind that was safe from Hannibal Heyes!_


End file.
